


Hold Me (If You Want To)

by CoraleeBlaze



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Bottom Sam, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Incest Kink, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Stripper Dean, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Switching, Top Dean, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoraleeBlaze/pseuds/CoraleeBlaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn't hug very often, especially since Sam returned from Stanford, but right now, he felt like they both needed it. Dean relaxed in Sam's arms like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He sighed in contentment, nuzzling into Sam's chest, then lifting his head to brush his lips along Sam's neck. “Uh, Dean?” Sam queried, slightly confused. After all, this sort of thing usually only happened in his dreams. Dean's eyes snapped open, and he hurriedly jumped backwards. “Shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Author's Note:<br/>Sam and Dean are the only major characters in this story. Everyone else is only mentioned in passing, with some of them being mentioned more than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this will have at least one more chapter, though it could be complete as-is. This first chapter is mostly porn, but the next one will explore the reactions of Sam and Dean to the things that happened in this chapter, as well as some things that have happened in previous years. There might be more than two chapters, but not more than three. (Unless the muse strikes with inspiration once more.) 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

“Damn it Sam! You should've been more careful!” Dean said angrily as they walked through the door of the motel room. “Fuck you, Dean. I'm _fine_! Ok? I got the thing in one shot, and it didn't even touch me!” Sam spat. “Yeah, well, you could've been badly injured. You shouldn't take risks like th–” “Risks?!” Sam interrupted furiously, “Dude! I saved your _ass_ out there! If I hadn't taken that 'risk', you might be in the hospital right now, or worse!” “Yeah, well. I–” Dean's anger melted away to show his true emotions underneath. He rubbed his hand over his face before continuing. “I'm sorry, Sammy. You're right, you did save my ass. I just– I saw you standing in the middle of that clearing, yelling at a monster to come and get you, and it came after you. It was so close, Sam, so close to hurting you, and all I could think was, 'This is it. This is the day that I can't save him.' and it terrified me.”

 

Sam's face softened as he listened to his brother's words, and the soft tone they were spoken in. “Hey, it's ok. I get it, I really do. C'mere.” He pulled Dean into his arms. They didn't hug very often, especially since Sam returned from Stanford, but right now, he felt like they both needed it. Dean relaxed in Sam's arms like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He sighed in contentment, nuzzling into Sam's chest, then lifting his head to brush his lips along Sam's neck. “Uh, Dean?” Sam queried, slightly confused. After all, this sort of thing usually only happened in his dreams. Dean's eyes snapped open, and he hurriedly jumped backwards. _“Shit. Shitshitshitshit shit! Why did I do that? Now he'll leave me for sure!”_

 

Sam looked down at the trembling form of his brother, huddled against the wall. _“Maybe I'm not the only one who has these feelings.”_ he thought hopefully. “Dean. Look at me. Please. Look up at me.” he pleaded. Dean slowly raised his head, unshed tears glinting in his eyes. “I'm sorry, Sammy, so sorry. I– I never meant for you to know.” He hung his head again, not wanting to see the horror and disgust that was sure to be in his little brother's eyes. Sam stepped closer, bracketing Dean against the wall with his body. “Dee.” he whispered worshipfuly, sliding two fingers under Dean's chin and gently lifting it. “Are you saying you want this?” he questioned before carefully pressing his lips against Dean's for a moment, then pulling back a short distance. Dean stared, wide-eyed, at Sam. “S– Sam?” “I asked you a question, Dean. Do you want this?” “I, uh, yeah. Yes, I do.” Dean squared his shoulders defiantly. Sam smiled, “Good. 'Cause I want it too!” “Really?” “Really.”

 

Dean surged forward and locked his lips onto Sam's. _“Sammy, gorgeous, brother, lover, MINE!”_ He thought exultantly. Joyfully, he tangled his tongue with Sam's, licking deep into his mouth. Claiming him. They stumbled towards the nearest bed, landing hard, but not breaking apart for more than a second. Dean rolled them over until he was on top of Sam. Somewhere during the mad rush to the bed Sam's shirt had been unbuttoned, and Dean's removed altogether, leaving bare skin to rub against bare skin.

 

Sam gasped as Dean thrust downwards, grinding their hips together, rough friction against throbbing flesh trapped behind now-too-tight jeans. He craned his head up trying to capture Dean's lips with his own. He wasn't sure exactly how they had gone from gentle kisses against the wall, to making out on the bed like teenagers, but he wasn't complaining. “Hnngh Dee. Need more!” He moaned, sliding his hands down Dean's bare back – _“When did we lose our shirts?”_ – and into his pants until he was cupping his brother's bare bottom in his hands. He gently squeezed the firm globes, then stroked across Dean's hole with one finger. Dean bucked against him with a hoarse cry. “Sammy!” He gasped, looking down at his little brother with wide eyes before suddenly pulling away.  
  
 _"Oh shit. I must have gone too far!"_ was Sam's immediate thought. He soon realized, however, that Dean had only gotten up to strip off his jeans and boxers, leaving him completely naked. “Beautiful.” Sam whispered, half under his breath. Dean heard it anyway, and he turned bright red, muttering “Shuddup.” in Sam's general direction. Sam hurriedly removed the remainder of his clothes before pulling Dean back down on top of him. The brothers groaned in unison as naked flesh met naked flesh. Their mouths met in a passionate tangle of lips and tongues as their bodies moved against each other, thrusting and writhing in a sensual rhythm.  
  
After a few minutes of this erotic dance, Dean pulled away, panting. “Hey Sammy, hold on. I wanna try something.” he slithered down Sam's body until his head was level with Sam's crotch. He stuck out his tongue and swiped it across the head of Sam's penis. He hummed with delight as a spurt of liquid came out onto his tongue, and he closed his eyes as he savored the taste. Sam tasted really good, sweet, even! Dean had done this several times before, – _“But I don't want to remember those right now, don't want to think about them at all, really.”_ – and the taste had always been bitter. _“Must be all the healthy stuff Sam eats.”_ he thought.  
  
He settled more comfortably along Sam's thighs. He kissed his way from the tip of Sam's length to the base, then licked a long stripe back up before closing his lips around the head, and gently sucking. “D-Dee! Deaaan! Fuckin' tease!” Dean grinned as Sam whimpered and tried to thrust up into his mouth. "Easy there, little brother." he said, holding Sam's hips down with one arm. Sam moaned and another spurt of pre-come dripped from his slit.  
  
“Huh.” Dean smirked evilly, “That turn you on _little brother_? When I call you that, does it turn you on?” “Y-yeah.” Sam admitted breathlessly, “Yeah it does. Turns me on when you remind me who and what I am to you. I've wanted this ever since I was fourteen. For you to own me. Every part of me. And for me to own you. So tell me _big brother_ does it not turn you on too?” Dean gaped up at his brother and gulped as he felt himself grow impossibly harder. He pounced on Sam with a gentle ferocity that took Sam's breath away. “Yeah, I guess it does.” he growled in Sam's ear before locking their lips together once again.

 

Eventually, they separated in order to breathe. “Fuck me, Sam.” Dean asked, “Please fuck me.” “Y'sure?” “Yeah. There's lube in my bag. Left front pocket.” “'Kay.” Sam reached over and removed the tube from the bag. He snicked it open and squirted some onto his fingers. “Roll over on your stomach for me.” he said. Dean hesitated. “I think I'd rather be on my back.” he declared. “Y'sure? It'll be easier for you the other way.” Sam looked up with a worried frown. “I know, but I want to see your face. I need to see you, Sammy.” Dean looked at him pleadingly. “Ok” Sam sighed, “If that's what you'd prefer.” he capitulated.

 

Sam massaged Dean's hole for a few seconds before carefully sliding one finger in. “Have you done this before?” he queried, expecting a negative answer. “Yeah, I have. It's been a while, though.” came the reply, much to Sam's shock. “Really?” he asked. Then curiously, “When?” “Do we really have to talk about it right now, Sam?” Dean groaned, “Your finger is in my ass right now. I want your dick in my ass sometime in the next ten minutes. Can we please get from point A to point B without stopping for a chat?” “You're such a jerk sometimes, Dee.” Sam replied, but, to Dean's undying gratitude, he let the subject drop.

 

Sam carefully, but efficiently, stretched Dean out. Adding another finger, then another, until there were three fingers pistoning in and out of Dean's ass. “Hurry, Sammy. I wanna come with you inside of me.” “Condoms?” Sam asked. “I don't need one if you don't.” Dean replied, “I get checked regularly, and I've not been with anyone since the last check-up.” “Really?” Sam was somewhat shocked. When had his brother, the sex machine, stopped having sex, and, more importantly, why hadn't Sam noticed? “Huh. Ok, well, I haven't been with anyone since Madison, and I used a condom with her, so I should be ok.” he stated. “Alright. Now fuck me, little brother!” Dean commanded. 

 

Dean groaned in pleasure as Sam's penis rubbed against his stretched hole. He arched up, trying to get Sam to enter him. After a moment more of teasing, Sam finally pushed into him in one smooth stroke. Dean screamed in ecstasy at the feeling. “Move, move, please Sam, move!” Sam began to fuck him with a slow, steady pace that Dean thought would drive him mad. “Harder!” he begged, “Please fuck me harder!” to no avail, however, as Sam seemed to be getting a sadistic pleasure out of keeping Dean right on the edge of enough. “Baby boy, little brother, fuck me hard!” and, at that, Sam let out an almost animalistic growl, and began to fuck him in earnest. All pretense of teasing gone, this was Sam and Dean, soulmates, coming together as one. “Dee, Dee, so beautiful, big brother, so amazing, love you so much!” Sam's words were punctuated by powerful thrusts that left Dean breathless. “Sam, Sammy, Sammmmm! Love you too baby boy!”

 

After they came down from their respective highs, Sam moved to pull away. “No, stay. Don' want you to leave.” Dean grasped his arm. “You don't even want me to get something to clean us up with?” Sam asked. “Nah, we can shower in the morning. Talk in the morning, too.” “You're _offering_ to talk?” “Well, I don't really want to, but I know we need to anyway, so yeah. We'll talk. But right now, I just want you to hold me. Please Sam, please just hold me.” “Ok” Sam replied in a whisper. “Yeah, I'll hold you, Dee. I'll hold you as long as you want.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers talk. And have more sex.
> 
> Additional Notes:  
> This is set in Season 2 sometime between 'Heart' and 'All Hell Breaks Loose'.  
> Sam and Dean are both Bisexual.
> 
> Additional Warnings:  
> There is non graphic mention of past dub/non-con in this chapter, and both Sam and Dean discus previous sexual encounters with other people.

Sam woke up slowly the next day. Gradually coming to awareness through a fog of warmth and half-remembered pleasure. He smiled, eyes still closed, as he thought about the amazing events of the previous evening. Never had he thought that his desire for Dean would ever be welcomed or returned. He rolled over in the bed, intending to wake Dean with a morning kiss, but his questing hands found nothing but empty sheets. His eyes flew open and he sat up in consternation. Dean was nowhere in the motel room. His next thought was that Dean was, perhaps, in the shower, but further examination quickly revealed that the bathroom was empty.

 

Sam slumped down on the bed again.  _“I suppose it was too much to ask that Dean wouldn't be freaked out by this.”_ He thought despairingly,  _“I wonder if he's left me permanently, or if he'll come back after a while.”_ He started to lie back down on the bed, intending to bury his head in Dean's pillow and cry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a piece of paper sitting on the table beside the bed. He reached over and picked it up. 

 

**Sammy,**

**Gone to get breakfast.**

**Didn't wake you because you looked so peaceful.**

**Be back soon.**

**Dee**

 

Sam sighed with relief. He was glad Dean had left him a note, rightly anticipating that if Sam woke before he returned, he would assume the worst. He smiled softly as he re-read it. Dean had called him Sammy, and he had also signed it with Sam's old nickname for him that had made a sudden reappearance during their lovemaking of the night before. This all pointed toward Dean _not,_ in fact, being freaked out by the boundaries they had crossed. Sam wondered just how long his brother had been denying or fighting these feelings. Was it more recent, or was it something that had been lying  half dormant for a long time like it had been with Sam? _“I guess that's probably one thing we'll be talking about later.”_ Sam stretched out across the bed and wiggled his toes. He decided to go ahead and take a shower while he waited for Dean to come back. 

 

As he waited for the water to get warm, Sam grabbed a clean pair of boxers from his duffel bag and brushed his teeth. He got in the shower, sighing with contentment as the warm water streamed down his skin. For once, it seemed as though they had found a motel with decent water pressure. He began to wash the dried semen off of his stomach.  _“Dean's come.”_ he thought in wonderment. He felt himself start to grow hard at the idea, and at the memory of the sex he'd had with Dean. He reached down and began to stroke himself, imagining it was Dean's hand, hearing in his mind the beautiful, sexy noises Dean had made as Sam had fucked him.”Oh, oh, yeah, Dean!” he moaned as he came, fully giving into his fantasies without guilt for the first time. Oh, he'd been jerking off to fantasies of Dean ever since he found out what his dick was for, of course, but they'd always been accompanied by some measure of guilt and shame. Especially as he got older, the shame had been so intense that he no longer enjoyed getting himself off because of how horrible he felt about himself afterward. 

 

He'd left for college in the hopes that getting away from Dean would dissipate his sexual urges toward his brother. It hadn't worked like he had hoped. If anything, he felt worse, because now not only did he have more than brotherly feelings towards Dean, but he  _missed_ him with an ache so terrible that he almost forgot how to function properly. He tried drowning his heartache in a string of nameless, faceless men. Maybe if he fucked other people, he could forget about Dean; but all that did was add more ammunition to his mental storage of Dean masturbation fantasies. Now he didn't have to imagine what it would feel like to get a blow-job from a guy, to touch a flat, muscular body instead of a soft, curved one, to sink his penis into a warm, clenching ass, or to kiss someone who kissed back with as much ferocity as Sam kissed him. He didn't need to imagine anymore, he knew. Now all he had to do was substitute the different faces for the one: green eyes, plump red lips, and freckles were all he ever saw. 

 

After about a year and a half, he met Jessica. They literally ran into each other one day. They were both hurrying to get to a class, not watching where they were going, and they collided in a flurry of papers and dropped books. Several fumbled apologies and hurriedly gathered items later, they awkwardly took their leave of each other, and ran on to their respective classes. Later that evening, as Sam was going through his books, a sheet of paper fell out. It was a handwritten poem entitled “What is Normal Anyway?” Intrigued, Sam began to read: 

 

_What is normal anyway?_

_The question we all ask._

_Are you normal here today,_

_Do you hide behind a mask?_

 

_Is normal just a fantasy,_

_A trick to make us feel_

_Alone with no one's sympathy?_

_What's false and what is real._

 

_Is normal a two parent home,_

_or a family split apart?_

_What about the ones who roam_

_Alone and in the dark?_

 

_Are you normal, or am I?_

_But really, who's to say,_

_That my normal's not a lie,_

_And yours is the right way?_

 

_In shallow answer to these questions,_

_Normal life suits me just fine._

_But upon further reflections,_

_Uniqueness sounds sublime._

 

Sam blinked back tears. The words of the poem entered the secret, hidden places of his soul, and stripped away all pretense. They flayed him alive, then soothed his wounds and healed them. “Jessica Moore” he read aloud the name attached to the bottom of the paper. He was suddenly hit with an overwhelming urge to meet this girl, to become friends with her. Maybe she would be someone he could tell about his life.

 

A couple weeks passed before they met for the second time when Sam's friend, Brady, introduced them at a party. They became good friends very quickly, and six months later, they went on their first official date. Six months after that, they moved in together. Sam never did confide his secrets in her. He couldn't have born it if she'd looked at him with disgust or fear. He loved her, not like he loved Dean, but he loved her none the less. She was safe, normal, comfortable. All the things Dean wasn't. He told himself that the fact she looked a bit like Dean had absolutely nothing to do with his attraction to her, and he studiously pushed down the guilt that never could quite be silenced.

 

The water in the shower began to get cooler, jolting Sam out of his memories. He quickly finished washing himself, then hurriedly dried off and pulled his boxers on. He really didn't want to be naked when Dean walked in. Not that he thought either of them would mind it, but rather, because he knew they probably wouldn't get far in the way of conversation if he wasn't at least partially clothed. With that thought in mind, he exited the bathroom and put on a pair of jeans as well. He decided to remain shirtless, however. He was allowed to seduce Dean now, and he wanted to make the most of it.

 

***

 

As Dean drove back to the motel from the diner, he struggled with deciding what exactly to tell Sam during their upcoming conversation. He had purposely driven to the next town over, so as to give himself time to think. _“I want to tell him everything, but I'm scared he won't want me anymore.”_ He mulled over every possibility in his mind. _“If I don't tell him everything, I'll always be scared he'll find out someday. Plus I'd always wonder if he'd really love me if he knew the truth. If I tell him, he might leave, but at least I'll always have the memory of our one night together.”_ His mind made up, Dean drove on towards the motel. He was still apprehensive about having a heartfelt, honest talk with Sam – he has good reasons for disliking chick-flick moments – but now that he'd decided what to do, he felt a bit lighter.

 

Dean pulled into the motel parking lot and headed straight for their room. He hoped Sam had found the note he'd left, and that he wasn't freaking out. He walked through the door to find his brother stretched out on the bed reading, barefoot and shirtless, wearing his tightest pair of jeans. Dean swallowed hard, trying to suppress his growing desire. Sam looked up from the page with a blinding grin. “Mornin' Dee.” he said as he lowered the book and set it on the bedside table. “Mornin' Sammy. I brought breakfast and coffee.” he held the bag and cups tantalizingly in the air before carrying it over to Sam. Sam scooted over and patted the spot next to him. “Sit.” he said, “Have you already eaten?” “Nah,” Dean replied a bit shyly, “I was waitin' to eat with you.” He handed Sam his coffee, and sat down on the bed.

 

He hesitated a moment, then leaned over to give Sam a quick kiss. He pulled away hurriedly, digging into the bag of food and praying that Sam wouldn't make a big deal out of it. Sam looked at him, slightly surprised, but very pleased. He took in the light blush on Dean's face and decided against saying anything. Instead, he leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek. “So, what's for breakfast?” He asked as he settled back into his previous position. “For you, an omelet supreme and a bowl of fruit with a toasted english muffin. For me, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and sausage gravy over two biscuits.” Dean replied, grinning.

 

“Wow, you really went all out today, Dean!” Sam exclaimed. “Breakfast in bed, not trying to force me to eat your greasy heart attack on a plate, this how you treat all your girls?” he teased. “Oh, so you admit you're the girl?” Dean smirked. “I admit nothing.” Sam replied. “And I think you should remember just which one of us had a dick in his ass last night.” he winked cockily. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dean mumbled. “All kidding aside though, no. I don't ever do this for anyone else. Just you, Sammy. You're special.” Sam smiled softly. “Yeah, I love you too.” he replied. 

 

They ate their breakfast at a leisurely pace, Sam stealing pieces of bacon off his brother's plate at intervals, and Dean pretending not to notice. For all that Sam claimed to dislike greasy food, bacon was his one exception, and Dean always got an extra serving so that there would be enough for both himself and Sam. When they were both finished eating, Dean gathered up the trash and threw it away, while Sam cleaned the crumbs off the bed. When he was done, Dean walked over and plopped back down on the edge of the bed. He drew in a deep breath to fortify himself before looking at his brother. “So. You ready to talk?” he asked. “Yeah, I am.” Sam responded, “Who gets to go first?” “You can, if you don't mind.” Dean replied. “Ok. Here goes.” Sam hoped his nervousness wasn't showing too badly. He breathed in deeply before proceeding.

 

“When I was fourteen, I began to have wet dreams for the first time. I dreamed about you. Every time I'd seen you with a girl, every moan I'd heard you make, every time I'd watched your lips close around the top of a beer bottle. You turned me on more than anyone or anything else. I don't know how many times I came imagining your lips on me instead. At first it didn't really bother me. I actually didn't think anything about it! You were always there for everything else, why should this be any different. After about a year, though, I began to realize that normal people didn't have these kinds of feelings for their siblings. I tried to fight it, but I couldn't stop. I became moody and harsh, keeping you at arm's length. I hated myself for hurting you. Every time you approached me and I shot you down, I saw a little bit more of the light die in your eyes, and I loathed myself even more, but I felt it would be even worse if you found out how I really felt about you. 

 

“I battled my feelings for years, until I couldn't take it anymore. That's when I went to college. I still wonder if I didn't argue with Dad the way I did so he'd throw me out, because then I'd have an excuse not to come back. Once I was at Stanford, I tried to drown my feelings in sex and alcohol. I was quite the party goer during my first couple years, contrary to what I've let you believe. I slept with so many different men, and a few women, trying to get you out of my head. But when I'd tried almost everything I could think of, and you were still in my heart and my fantasies, I had to admit to myself that I wasn't attracted to you because of our lack of friends or consistent outside influences. I was in love with you, Dean, and I finally accepted that I always would be. I met Jess around the same time that I figured that out. We became friends, we dated for a while, then we moved in together. I did love her too, I really did, but she still wasn't you. I would have married her, we could have had a happy life together, but she wasn't you. 

 

“When you showed up again, I wasn't sure what to do. It was like all the repressed feelings that I still had came churning back up to the surface. I wanted so badly to leave with you and never come back, but now I had Jess to think about too. I couldn't just leave her like that. So I did the one case with you. I was going to go back to Jess, but I still hoped to keep in touch with you a little more than we had been. But then Jess died, and I left with you anyway. So I felt guilty about Jess, furious with myself for not protecting her better, yearning to find Dad so that we could kill the thing and get this nightmare over with, and, on top of everything, I was still deeply, hopelessly, in love with you. I thought I might go crazy, Dee, then I started having visions, and I thought I _had_ gone crazy. The only thing that kept me going was you, but I never once thought that you would ever feel the same about me as I do about you. My desire for you was getting unbearable again. That's why I slept with Madison. That, and I could relate to her. A monster who wanted to be good. 

 

“When you kissed me last night, It felt like everything I've ever dreamed of came true. I love you so much, Dean, and I don't want this to be just a one time thing. I want us to be lovers. Boyfriends, if you will. I don't care that we're brothers, and no one else has to know that we are. They already assume that we're gay, so why don't we just fail to correct their assumption? As for the people that know us, I guess we just don't say anything, but if they find out, I don't want us to deny it. If they don't want us around after that, I guess we'll live. I'd rather loose everyone else than loose you.” 

 

Sam looked shyly at Dean from under his bangs. He hoped he hadn't said too much, but he felt the need to get everything out in the open. 

 

Dean looked back at his little brother, and his heart swelled with love for him. He leaned over and gave Sam a passionate kiss, licking gently into his mouth, then sucking on his tongue as a promise of more to come. He pulled back reluctantly. “I'd like that too, Sammy. I feel the same. I just need you to listen to what I'm going to tell you first, because I'm afraid that you might change your mind after you hear what I have to say.” “Never, Dean! I'll never change my mind about you!” Sam exclaimed, slightly hurt that, after all he'd just said, Dean still doubted him. Dean saw the traces of hurt in Sam's eyes, and hastened to reassure him. “Aw Sammy, I don't mean to make you think that I doubt your love for me! I don't doubt it at all! I just need you to listen to my story before making any final decisions. It's kind of hard for me to talk about, well, anything, but especially this. I've never told anyone about this before.” Dean looked at Sam nervously. “Will you let me talk, Sammy? Will you let me talk without interrupting me?” Sam caressed Dean's hand with his own, twining their fingers together. “Yeah, I'll listen.” he said softly. 

 

Dean tightened his hold on Sam's hand. “Ok, well, I guess I should start from the beginning: 

 

“When I was sixteen, Dad started leaving us alone for weeks at a time. He would leave money, but sometimes it wasn't quite enough. I tried to stretch it as far as I could, but sometimes it would run out. One time, we were almost out of money, and I couldn't get hold of Dad to ask him what I should do, so I decided to try to make some more. I found a poker game, and I won $300. I should have stopped right there, but I thought if I could make just a little bit more, I'd be able to buy you a new pair of shoes. Your old ones were falling apart, and we hadn't had enough money to buy you a good pair in a while. So I played another game. I lost. All of our money, I lost it. We had enough food for three days if we stretched it out, but after that, we'd have nothing. 

 

“I waited the three days, tried to find some odd jobs or something to make money, but I couldn't find anything. You were so hungry that you went to bed crying on the third night, and I didn't have anything to give you. I still couldn't get hold of Dad, so the next day while you were in school, I sneaked out of class and walked to the local grocery store. I was going to steal some stuff for sandwiches and maybe some canned soup, but I got caught. They took me down to the police station, and threw me in a holding cell. They called Dad, but he was angry, and he told them to just let me rot in there for a while. He said maybe it would teach me a lesson. I think he was on his way back already, because he was there in time to pick you up for school. I think we told you that I'd gone on another hunt, or something like that.

 

“They sent me to a boys home because I was underage. It wasn't so bad, really. The man who ran the place, Sonny, was a real good guy. He got my charges dropped because I was only stealing food because I was so hungry. I stayed there for a while. Went to school, played on the wrestling team, got a girlfriend. My first girlfriend, actually, I'd never even kissed a girl before that. But after two months, Dad came back. He needed my help on a hunt. I could've stayed, Sammy. I almost did. But then I looked out the window, and you were in the back seat of the car, half your body sticking out the window, playing with the toy airplane that I got you for your birthday, and all I could think was, 'If I don't leave now, I'll never see Sammy again.' and I couldn't have lived with that. So I left. 

 

“Dad and I had a long talk about shoplifting and my reasons for doing it, and after that he was more careful about leaving us enough money. I think he felt bad that he'd responded as harshly as he had, and that we'd been having problems with having enough to eat while he was gone.

 

“When I was seventeen, he got caught up on a hunt, I think he was trailing the demon that killed Mom, and he was gone two months longer than he'd planned. He called me to let me know the money would run out, and that I would need to find a job. I asked around, but nobody would hire me. Apparently I didn't have the 'skills necessary' to be anything useful. There was a nightclub that I hadn't checked out yet, so I went in there, and they said they had enough bartenders and waiters, and they didn't really need more security guards, but if I wanted to be a stripper, with a body and face like mine, they'd hire me on the spot, paid under the table, no questions asked.

 

“I didn't really want to do it, but it was the only option I had, and they said I didn't have to strip completely naked, or actually have sex or any kind of physical contact with the customers unless I wanted to. It was an ok job, really. All I had to do was dance on stage while taking my clothes off, and it paid a lot of money. I was really popular, and most of the patrons were polite about my no touching rule. The few that weren't were quickly escorted away and permanently banned from the premises. 

 

“After a little over two months, Dad came back, and we left. I told him I'd gotten a job as a mechanic. The next time he left us, he told me that now that I had some experience and references, I could start getting a job whenever he was going to be gone for over a month. He still left a little money, but not enough to last for more than a week. I didn't know what to do because I knew I got a really good deal working in that strip club. Most of the ones willing to overlook underage non-taxpaying strippers aren't very nice. 

 

“I looked everywhere else first, but no one was willing to hire me, so I tried to find a club that wasn't too seedy. I found a place, but they really wanted me to be a prostitute for them too, and I wasn't willing to sell my body for sex. I was still a virgin. Though I had done some stuff already, I'd never actually had sex, and I wanted to keep it that way until I found someone special. So I asked them if I could just be a stripper. They reluctantly agreed, but told me they wouldn't pay me as much, and I would still have to strip completely naked. I could still make enough money to keep us fed, and it was a better deal than I'd found anywhere else, so I agreed. 

 

“The patrons at this strip club weren't as polite. They would grab my ass when I walked by, and they would proposition me regularly, but I always said no. One night, there was a guy who was really forceful. I told him no several times, but didn't want to accept it. I finally had to slap him across the face before he left me alone. When I came out of the club to go home, he was waiting for me. He tried to grab me and force me into an alley, but I was able to fight him off before he did anything. 

 

“The next night, he was waiting again, and this time he brought friends. There were five of them, Sammy, and I tried to fight them, but there were too many. They held me down and took turns r– raping me. It was the week before my eighteenth birthday. That's the night I came home late and spent an hour in the shower before I climbed into bed with you. You held me while I cried, and all you said was, 'You want to tell me about it?' I wanted to tell you so bad, but I couldn't. You were only thirteen, and I didn't want you to know what I did. I wanted to be the cool older brother who goes out with lots of chicks. I told myself I deserved it for working that kind of job anyway. I didn't go back to work there again. I had several hundred dollars saved up that I was going to use to buy a guitar, and Dad was supposed to be back soon anyhow. We left the next week.

 

“The next time Dad left us, I just waited in an alley until someone drove up looking for a hooker. I'd already lost the only reason I had for not doing it, and it was easier than trying to find a job. That's what I started doing every time we needed cash. I'd go out and let someone fuck me for money. I lost count of how many there were. Men, women, I'd do anything they wanted me to. I even started enjoying it. Not every time with every person, but I began to like sex for the pleasure I could get out of it, and not just for the money.

 

“I hated hooking though, y'never know what kind of person you're going to get. Plus, some of them are really old, or fat, or nasty. As soon as I got old enough to go into pool halls without everyone questioning my age, I learned to hustle pool really well, while not doing it so much that the people knew I was ripping them off. I was about twenty then. I still had sex for money sometimes, but I could afford to be pickier about who it was with. 

 

“I first realized that I was attracted to you the summer after you turned sixteen. You didn't wear a shirt all summer, and we went skinny dipping together several times. You were growing up nice, and I noticed. The morality, or lack of, never really bothered me that much. We do so many things that are illegal or crazy or different, and you were the only good thing in my life. The main reason I never told you was that I felt so dirty compared to you. I regularly got fucked for money. I'm damaged goods. Why, out of all the people in the world, would you want me? I never wanted you to know what I did. I'm only telling you now because you needed to know if we're gonna start anything together. 

 

“When you left for Stanford, it was like my whole world fell apart. Understand, I'm not blaming you, but I started drinking pretty bad. Dad wasn't around much either, and I didn't have anyone to turn to. I hunted some, but I almost got badly injured because I went after a ghost while I was drunk. After that, I kinda wandered aimlessly for a while. Ended up in California because I was going to go see you, but as soon as I pulled into town, I chickened out. I caught wind of a possible cursed object in San Francisco, so I drove on to there. There wasn't a cursed object, but I found a support group for male victims of sexual assault. I sat in on a few meetings. I never talked, but I listened. Listened to all their stories, and it made me feel not quite as alone. I left after about a month and a half, drove past your dorm and saw you with Jessica. It couldn't have been too long after you met her, because I didn't get the 'relationship vibes' from you, but you looked happy.

 

“I threw myself back into hunting. Dad and I checked in with each other every couple weeks, and we met up several times, but other than that, he wasn't really around much. And I think that's about everything up until I came to get you from school.”

 

Dean tried to act as nonchalant as he could with half dried tears on his face. He hung his head, not quite meeting Sam's eyes. 

 

As Dean had begun talking, Sam had become curious, then shocked, then heartbroken. Tears streamed down his face as he listened to Dean's confession. He gripped his brother's hand tighter, not letting go for even a second. When Dean was finished speaking, Sam brought his hand up to his lips and kissed it. He let it go, then knelt down on the floor between his brother's knees. He ran his hands along Dean's thighs, then brought one hand up to cup his cheek. “Oh Dee.” he breathed, “I love you so much.” And at that, Dean's defenses broke down completely, and he began to sob. 

 

Sam pulled him down into his lap and held him tightly against his chest. He stroked his back while dropping tiny kisses into Dean's hair. “Shhh, shhh, hey. It's alright, it's ok, I got you, big brother, I got you. Just let it all go, let it all out.” He continued soothing and rocking Dean back and forth until his sobs were gentle whimpers. He reached over and grabbed a handkerchief for Dean to blow his nose into, then gently cradled his face in his hands. “You feel better now?” he asked softly. “Y– yeah. Thanks” Dean sniffled. 

 

Sam leaned down and lightly kissed Dean's lips, then kissed his face until the tears were all gone. “I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Dean, and I'm sorry you felt like you had to go through it alone. I love you more than anything, and I still want you, want us, if you really want it too.” “Of course I want it, Sammy. Want it more than anything!” “Ok. What do you want to do right now?” “Sleep? I feel exhausted.” “Yeah, sleep is good.” Sam lifted Dean up and laid him on the bed in one swift motion. “You want some help getting your clothes off?” he asked. Dean's lips raised in a slight smirk, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I said sleep.” he teased lightly. Sam rolled his eyes, “Haha very funny.” he replied, “I was being serious, Dean.” 

 

Dean looked up at him with a suddenly vulnerable expression on his face. “Hey Sammy, would you? Would you have sex with me now?” “Right now?” Sam asked. Dean nodded. “Well, sure, but it depends on why you're doing it. So tell me, why are you doing it?” Sam wanted nothing more than to reassure Dean of his love, and to worship his brother's body, but it was important to him that Dean really wanted him for the right reasons. “I– I want it because I love you. I need you. I want your touch to wash away the reminder of all the times before. I want it because everything before this has just been sex, and you are so much more than that. So please, Sammy, make love to me.” They stared at each other with all their long hidden feelings playing across their faces. Sam nodded once, satisfied with what he saw in Dean's eyes. “Ok.” he whispered. 

 

Dean laid back on the bed as Sam crawled up his body. He leaned down for a kiss, slow, soft and filled with emotion. He drew back, fingers deftly undoing the buttons on Dean's shirt. Gently, he kissed every new bit of skin that was revealed. Once the shirt was completely undone, he lifted Dean up and pulled it completely off, then laid him back down and began to lap at his nipples. He soon discovered that they were incredibly sensitive, and he gently bit, licked, pulled, and kissed them in turn, until Dean was a quivering mess of arousal beneath him. “S– Sam, I, I–” Sam ran his fingers lightly over Dean's lower abdomen as he sucked one nipple and twisted the other. Dean's eyes rolled back and he came hard. 

 

“Damn!” he said breathlessly after a couple minutes, “I haven't come in my pants like that since I was a teenager!” Sam chuckled quietly. “Ready for some more?” he asked. “Yeah, by all means, continue.” Dean said. Sam kissed his way down Dean's chest until he reached his waistband. He nuzzled along Dean's crotch, and felt his penis give an interested twitch. Grinning, he undid Dean's jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers off together until he was completely naked. 

 

Sam took a moment to savor the image of his brother stretched out on the bed, flushed with arousal, the leftover mess of his semen still clinging to his body. “You are so beautiful, Dee.” he stated. Dean blushed, but didn't argue with him this time. Sam leaned back down to suddenly take Dean's soft penis into his mouth, gently cleaning it of Dean's come. He licked further down, laving Dean's balls with his tongue, then licking all around Dean's crotch until he was completely clean. He swallowed it down greedily. He'd never been very fond of the taste, but this was  _Dean_ , and that automatically made everything ten times hotter. 

 

He reached over and grabbed the lube from the table where they'd left it the night before. He squirted some out onto his fingers, then reached behind himself. Dean looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “I wanna ride you.” Sam explained. Dean gulped. “I've never actually topped before.” he admitted after a moment. “Well, I've never bottomed.” Sam replied with a grin, “So it'll be a first for both of us!” Dean smiled softly. “Yeah, I guess it will. Hey, can I?” he motioned to the lube. “Yeah, sure.” Sam leaned back so that Dean could see where two of his fingers were disappearing into his body. Dean coated his fingers with lube, then carefully rubbed them along Sam's rim before slipping one inside along Sam's. They both groaned simultaneously. Sam because of the amazing feeling of something besides his own fingers inside of him, and Dean at the tight heat that he was now imagining wrapped around his (now fully erect again) dick.

 

Sam pulled his fingers out, and Dean added two more of his. He massaged along Sam's inner wall trying to find his prostate. His finger finally brushed across it, and he was rewarded by a low moan from Sam. He lightly scratched his fingernail across it several times until Sam reached down and gripped the base of his own penis tightly, and said in a warning tone: “Dean, if you don't stop that right now, I'm going to come in about ten seconds.” Dean grinned innocently at him. “Well you better come here and ride me then.” he said, flopping back down on the bed with his legs splayed wide open. Sam groaned again. “You are evil. You know that?” he huffed with exasperation. Dean chuckled. “Only you, Sammy, could be so prissy right before you're about to have sex. 

 

Sam rolled his eyes, then braced his knees on either side of Dean, took hold of Dean's penis, and gently lowered himself onto it. He paused for a moment, then lifted himself back up, then down again, setting a slow, sensuous pace. He clenched his ass around Dean, causing him to buck up his hips. “Yeah, that's right, move with me, Dee.” he panted. Dean wrapped his hands around Sam's hips, and suddenly sat up, pulling Sam into his lap. They both gasped as the new position and angle drove Dean even deeper into Sam.

 

Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, and his arms around Dean's body. He rested his head on Dean's shoulder, and began to suck a bruise into his neck. Dean responded by sucking a matching mark onto Sam's. They both raised their heads at the same moment, and began to kiss sloppily. Tongues thrusting in and out of each other's mouths in imitation of the other parts of their bodies. 

 

They came like that, bodies thrusting in wild abandon. Tangled so closely in each other's arms that it would have been hard to see where one ended and the other began. Lips locked together. Tongues sliding wetly against each other. 

 

They collapsed weekly on the bed, Dean sliding sloppily out of Sam as he softened. They cuddled together, exchanging slow kisses until they slept. 

 

When they woke up several hours later, they kissed some more, then playfully fought over who would take the first, much needed, shower. The final conclusion was that shower sex sounded quite interesting. 

 

They emerged an hour later, shivering because the hot water had run out before they'd finished cleaning up after their mutual blow job session. 

 

“So, I guess we're good then?” Dean questioned as they got dressed. “Yeah, we're good, Dee. In fact, I think this is the best we've ever been. We love each other, and we're both secure in the knowledge of that love, we can have awesome sex every day if we want to, plus I finally got to tell my soulmate how I feel about him, and he feels the same way about me!” Sam kissed the tip of Dean's nose, then pulled back, waiting for a response. 

 

“Hold me Sam, that was beautiful.” Dean replied with a rapturous look on his face before giving Sam a noogie and darting off to the motel room door. “You're a fuckin' jerk!” Sam yelled after him, grinning at the muffled “Bitch!” that was thrown his way, because even though their relationship had changed drastically, it hadn't really changed that much after all. In the ways that mattered most, they were still Sam and Dean Winchester, brothers. 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue/Afterward/Notes by the author.

When Sam and Dean consummated their relationship, it made their already strong soul bond unbreakable. The Yellow Eyed Demon had no more power over Sam's mind or body. The visions stopped, his plans were thwarted, and, try as he might, he was unable to steal Sam away.

 

After about 2,500 years in hell (a little over 2 years on earth), John Winchester finally broke, breaking the First Seal of 66 along with him. The angels showed up, but they didn't pull John out of hell because Dean was the one whom they really wanted. They tried to manipulate the brothers into fulfilling their destiny as “angel condoms”, to quote Dean's very descriptive term.

 

After watching the angels putting Sam and Dean through many different tortures and alternate universes to no avail, the angel Castiel stood up against his brothers and sisters to fight on the side of the Winchesters, and thus, Team Free Will was born. They were soon joined by Gabriel (aka Loki), who was tired of watching his siblings trying to tear apart such a beautiful soul bond as the one between Sam and Dean, and Bobby, who had already been trying to break the brothers out of the clutches of the angels for some time.

 

The battle raged on for about a year. Team Free Will and their friends being the only thing standing between the armies of heaven and the complete destruction of the world. Against insurmountable odds, they were finally victorious.

 

Castiel and Gabriel were permanently banished from heaven, but Gabriel didn't mind that. He resumed his place as Loki, and was perfectly content. Castiel didn't really mind either. He had grown tired of the constant lack of career choice in heaven, and there were so many things to discover on earth. He grew very fond of watching the bees.

 

Sam and Dean lived a long and happy life together. They still hunted from time to time, but, for the most part, they settled down in a small town somewhere in the Midwest. Dean grumbled about not being Sam's housewife, and Sam complained about Dean's dirty underwear in the middle of the floor, but overall their relationship was quite smooth.

 

They got married – Dean used the fake ID of Dean Singer, then took back the name of Winchester. Bobby proudly officiated the ceremony. – and eventually adopted several children, two girls and three boys. Dean made a great dad. Sam did too, but he privately thought that Dean was better with children. After all, he had raised Sam, whereas Sam had no experience with children whatsoever.

 

In the year 2065, when Sam was 82 and Dean was 86, they passed away quietly in their sleep. Their eldest daughter found them, arms wrapped around each other, peaceful smiles on their faces. Their many family members and friends mourned them greatly.

 

But Sam and Dean woke up, and they were young again. Playfully chasing each other through a field of sunflowers. They stopped, breathless, laughing as Sam swooped Dean into his arms and twirled them around. “I always loved these sunflowers, Dee!” Sam exclaimed happily. “I know, Sammy. I always loved kissing you in this field.” Dean replied with a chuckle. Their mouths met passionately, and their clothes seemed to melt away as they scrambled to get more of their skin touching.

 

“So I guess this is heaven.” Dean remarked afterward as they laid on the ground panting. “Guess so.” Sam replied. “It's our heaven, anyway.” “Honestly, to be anywhere with you would be heaven for me.” Dean admitted shyly. Sam smiled and kissed him again. “Same for me.” he replied as his hand trailed across Dean's lower stomach. “I love you forever, Dean.” “I love you forever, my beautiful Sam.”

 

And they held each other for all eternity.

 

-The End-

 

© Carver “Chuck” Edlund

All rights reserved.

 

Chuck's notes:

The last person Dean had sex with before Sam was Cassie.

Dean stopped hooking for good about a year after Sam left for Stanford.

Rhonda Hurley, Lisa Braeden, and Cassie were a few of Dean's sexual experiences that were simply for the enjoyment of sex.

 

Coralee's notes:

The poem by Jess in the second chapter is my own personal creation. Please do not use it without my prior consent.

 

 

 

 


End file.
